Greetings and happy Monday! Today we have the amazingly talented J. M. Powers talking about her new novel the Jewel of Ramstone, writing and well...shrimp scampi.
1.
How did
you start writing romance?
I started in high-school. Instead of opening
a school book during study hall, I'd write one. Usually, they'd end up sad with
some girl crying in the rain. I didn't quite grasp the concept of a happily
ever after…yeah, I suppose that wasn't really a romance was it? More like
tragedy. However, after my first kiss, my writing advanced. My first romance
blossomed and so did my first happily ever after story. *squints and tilts
head* Hmm, come to think of it…that guy left me crying on my front porch when
he went off to college. It's a wonder I chose romance as my genre. Maybe it
chose me.
2. Plotter or
pantster?
Both. I start with an outline then halfway through I toss it
over my shoulder. My characters wear the pants from that moment on. So I guess
you can say I'm a pantser.
3. What are three things you have on your writing desk?
Coffee, chocolate and phone. (My sister and I call each
other and say stuff like: I'm trying to think of a word…)
4. Favorite food?
Shrimp scampi
5. Tell us a little about your new release. What character
in the book really spoke to you?
The main character, Ruby and her best friend, Sarah really
spoke to me. Their friendship is unwavering despite their differences. Galeron,
the man Ruby loves, spoke to me as well. His brooding and self-imposed guilt
reminded me of someone I know. That made him real and easy to write about.
Galeron…oh lord…what a man. I even dreamt about him. If Ruby knew what fantasy
came true in my dream I'd have an arrow in my heart.
Jewel of Ramstone is more than a romance novel, though. It's
filled with struggles, growth, battles, death, hope and loss. I believe there
is something for every reader. (A man—I'll hold to my promise not to divulge
his identity— found the ARC on his wife's side of the bed. He intended to read
the first few pages but ended up reading the whole book. And loved it.)
6. I write because ____...
Because I must.
That's the truth. I always have ideas in my head ready to go into a book.
7. What is your favorite type of character to write about?
Woman who are strong, spunky and unconventional. That pretty
much describes Ruby in Jewel of Ramstone.
8. What is the sexiest scene you ever wrote?
There's a scene in Jewel of Ramstone where Ruby and Galeron
are off to hunt. In a playful moment, he chases her and throws her over his
shoulder without slowing his stride. They end up lying in the meadow….oh yeah.
I love that scene. So loving and carefree.
9. What advice would you give new authors in the romance
field?
I state the obvious, but write from the heart. Use the
love/heartache/laughter/tears you've experienced in your life and infuse it
into your writing. Write what you know. And if you write historical romance, do
your research.
10. What is next on your writerly horizon?
I have 4 books in my wip folder. I'm currently working on
the second of the Ramstone Series. A couple of secondary characters refused to
shut the hell up when I finished Jewel of Ramstone. I have to tell their story.
Thank you for taking
the time to visit this site! And thank you, Erzabet's Enchantments, for hosting
me!
My latest novel, Jewel
of Ramstone, is available at Breathless
Press and most places books are
sold.
Blurb:
A maiden, unable to recall who she
is, must battle evil to regain the memory of her past and the hope of a
future.
Awaking in the forest, a young maiden recalls
naught—including her name. Equally conflicting is her desire to both slap and
kiss Sir Galeron, the knight who claims to have protected her while she was
unconscious. Much to her chagrin, he dubs her "Ruby of the Forest"
due to her red hair, and insists she find refuge at his home of Ramstone.
Prickling at his demanding ways, but with no other option, she accepts his
offer. And although his kiss flames her attraction even more, Galeron dashes it
with a confession. The brute is trothed to another.
Ruby's journey is filled with laughter and
weeping, daydreams and discovered abilities. But never does she feel complete. Her heart longs for a future that her past
may destroy. Evil lurks, treading on each tidbit of memory she recovers.
Will Ruby ever recall her past? And after an attack in the village that sparks
a horrific nightmare, does she even want to?
Buy Link
Excerpt:
"Ask
me anything. Mayhap I can help." His deep voice broke the silence.
How was he to help? "Pray tell, how did we come to
share the forest?"
"I shall explain." He bent and picked up a twig,
then proceeded to peel the bark off. With each curl he tossed aside, she grew
more frustrated.
'Twas better to allow mistrust. Stand strong. She gasped. Unexpected, the thought rang with such
clarity, it seemed someone else had spoken. "Perchance you should be
honest. Did you drug me? Spell me?"
He tossed the twig aside. Though his
eyes remained on her face, her whole body felt his scrutiny. "'Twould do
you well to hold your tongue."
"I am beginning to dislike you," she said,
knowing full well the opposite was true. She truly wished her insides would
cease…prickling? And her head. Damn, it ached so. Tingles and pain aside, she
tried to focus. "Do you intend to explain or not?"
"I seek a means to tell you gently."
With a slight shrug, she said, "No need for
gentleness. You already tossed me about." She grinned despite the truth in
her statement.
He sighed. "It appears you are lost."
"God's eyes, knight!" She shook her head.
"You must be a great sorcerer to possess such insight."
"Your tongue shall be your undoing. Best you still
it."
Twice he attempted to stifle her. She clenched her teeth.
"Still it?"
Galeron's jaw twitched and she wondered if he were
quelling a smile. "I found you here in the woodlands. I did not hold you
captive, drug you, or harm you." He blinked slowly. "Hold to
that."
She nodded. "Forgive—"
"Nay need. I understand. You now stand a day's ride
from Ramstone. Have you heard of it?"
He pushed off the tree and came to sit beside her, his
thigh nearly touching her own. Nearly. It took a moment for her answer.
"Nay, I do not recall Ramstone." The fact she did not recall much of
anything choked off the rest of her response.
"Odd," he said, more to himself than her.
Sighing, she realized how badly her masquerade of bravery
was faltering. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his hand come toward her.
Surprised at the urge to lean into his touch, she remained still and allowed
him to brush back the wisps of hair from her brow. His hand lowered in a fist,
yet his voice was laced with tenderness.
"It pains me that I cannot give you answers."
His gaze strayed from her face, lowering to her neck.
Covering the neckline of her tunic with both hands, she
glared at him. "Focus elsewhere." He
sees me as a woman after all. She dashed the thought away. Almost.
"I intend nay disrespect. The bruising on your neck
concerns me." Gently brushing her hand aside, he took a closer look.
"Fingerprints."
It took all she had not to cry out. Who harmed her?
"When we discovered you, there was nay sign of anyone
else."
She glanced around. "We?"
"I sent my men home."
She blinked. Then blinked again. "Your men."
"My brother, a healer, assured me your wounds were
not serious, so I decided to wait—"
She put up her hand. "Why not leave me under the care
of your healer? Or leave me in the nearest village?"
He swallowed hard. "It matters not! Are you always
so…so…inquisitive?"
Ah, this man was not used to being questioned. She tried
to ease his surly mood. "A shame your men were sent on their way. No one
laid witness when I kicked you and bashed your comely face before you so
unceremoniously dropped a maiden to the ground."
He blew a long breath. "You insist on repeating that.
Had you dressed appropriately, I would not have thought you a lad." His
chuckle made her grin. "Although you certainly fight like a maiden."
She swiped her hand through the air. "Carry on."
"Carry on," he muttered. "I fear you shall
interrupt again." He looked up through the trees, ignoring her huff.
"We still had several days before reaching our destination when we found
you. With that in mind, I postponed the journey and sent my men back to
Ramstone."
"I see." She studied the frayed edge of her
tunic. "How long have I been here?"
"I watched over you a single night. How long you were
here remains a mystery. I was only gone a short time for I needed to boil meat
into a broth to sustain you. Had I known you were a maiden, I never would have
left you alone."
Her head snapped up. "Yet you would a lad? I am not
defenseless simply because I am a female."
Galeron's eyes hardened. "Aye, 'tis so. I returned to
find you brandishing a dagger. I left it in case you awoke and felt unsafe, not
to use against me."
She ran her hands through the leaves and shrugged a silent
apology, too stubborn to utter it out loud.
"Fair one?"
Damnation, she hated when he addressed her with those
words, and yet it awoke something in her, for he said it with tenderness. She
glared at his smiling face. "Why are you calling me that?" To her
chagrin, what she'd meant as snide came out as quite curious.
He splayed his hands in question, "Would you prefer I
call you lad?" Two furrows appeared on his brow at her silent glare.
"Because, you have yet to give your name."
Disarmed, she swallowed her spiteful attitude. "If I
only could." She locked away her tears, her dismay, and did her best to
keep her voice steady. "I hoped you would know…would say it by now. Sir
Galeron, I…I recall naught before I saw you standing before me."
Seeming to battle with her revelation, Galeron's
expression flitted from stunned to confused. Then his gaze bore into her with
such tenderness it nearly undid her. "Nay memory?" he finally
whispered.
She shook her head. He guided her head to his shoulder.
Barely a moment passed before he released her, rose to his feet, and strode
away. Unsure of why he left so abruptly, she frowned when he looked back.
"I regret I cannot ease your uncertainty." He
stooped to gather twigs. "However, I am able to ease your hunger. After
breaking our fast, we shall take leave."
She dabbed her impending tears as soon as his back was
turned.
"We should arrive at Ramstone by nightfall."
"I am to stay at your home? What shall your wife
think?"
"There is nay wife." He grabbed a branch and
added it to his arms. "But there is plentiful family about."
Holding the tree for support, she stood, waiting for the
dizziness to subside before she followed. When he turned, she picked up a
branch, embarrassed at how silly she looked traipsing on his heels. Gathering
an armload of kindling, she stole glances at him, each time wondering how it
would feel to remain in his arms. She piled the branches then watched him
arrange them.
"Building a fire?" Hark, she was a fool.
"Nay, I am building an abode." And he solidified
the fact.
"I want my own chamber then." Several paces
away, she sat. Sunlight peeked through the forest canopy. She closed her eyes
and raised her face to the warmth. Like a constant itch, she felt his gaze. She
slowly peered through her lashes. Aye, he was staring—no—studying her face. Her
gash. Her ugly face. She sighed and looked to the sky instead.
"God's eyes," he muttered.
She turned to him. Very
well, if he finds a need to gawk, I shall give him a full view of my battered
face. "Sir Galeron, what worries you so? Has my plight delayed your
duties?"
"Nay." He jammed the skinned carcasses on a
sharpened branch.
"I heard your curse. Was it in frustration of not
reaching your destination?" Oh, how she wished to smirk at his rudeness,
but she kept her poise.
"I was not delayed from anything that could not
wait." Keeping his eyes shielded, he placed the meat across the spit before
offering a weak smile. "I pray forgiveness for my curse reaching your
ears."
Wrapping her arms around her legs, she rested her unscathed
cheek on her knees. "Curses are naught. I am simply thankful you helped
me, Sir Galeron." Apparently he was too kind to mention her affliction.
She hated the pity.
Seemingly distracted, he arranged kindling then retrieved
a piece of hammered steel and flint from a pouch on his belt.
"I pray you can forgive my initial rudeness." When
he didn't respond, she added, "Ah, I gather forgiveness shall come with
time."
Galeron struck the steel with a bit of flint. "I
never held ill will. I understood the reason you lashed out." He blew on
the kindling until it caught. "You are forgiven for bashing your head into
mine as well."
"Ha!" She rose and strode to the fire. Her gaze
flitted over his body. He looked up, catching her stare, and alas, stared back.
Heat crept up her neck, spreading to her face. Surely, 'twas the fire's heat
causing her flush—she hoped he believed the same lie.
Galeron grinned. His demeanor was infuriating. And
endearing. And more confusing than her loss of memory.
"Sit." He continued to tend the fire.
She paid no heed to his demand, and thrust her hands
toward the fire. To her dismay, the sharp smell of the rabbit caused her
stomach to roar with hunger.
Galeron's blue eyes sparked with mischievousness. "I
gather 'tis been some time since you ate?"
"Apparently." She plunked down on a fallen log, certain
her face turned countless shades of crimson.
Taking a seat beside her, Galeron chuckled and poked at
the fire. He was so close she could smell the woodsy scent on his skin. She
inhaled deeper, tucking the fragrance into her mind to savor when she was left
to her own.
He cleared his throat. "Allow me to tend to that
cut."
Inwardly cringing, she changed the subject. "How long
before we eat?"
With a quick wink, he leaned back and rummaged in his
saddle pack. Taking her hand, he placed an apple in it, keeping one for
himself. His smile highlighted the dimple in his chin and she found herself
offering a genuine smile in return.
"Ah, glorious," she said, grateful he didn't see
how his touch affected her. Waving his offer to use his dagger, she bit
heartily into the fruit, and moaned, relishing the explosion of juice across
her tongue. "Naught could taste sweeter in this moment."
Oh, but she did know one thing that might. Tasting the
nectar on his lips would certainly qualify. She sensed his tension when she
took a bite. Mayhap he had the same thought? He grunted and crunched into the
apple, mumbling something about a damn green-eyed mystery.
Were
her eyes green? Damnation. Her mind was truly addled.
About the author:
J.M. Powers harbors an alter ego of a normal woman named
Jeannie. (Her editor is still on the fence about the whole 'normal' thing.)
Jeannie's proficient at research, gluten-free cooking, and embarrassing her
teenagers by wearing skinny jeans to the grocery store. J.M., the author-ego,
plunges so deep into her writing; she forgets life outside her creations still
goes on. More often than not, J.M. answers with a glassy stare when her family asks
what's for dinner. Despite the craziness between reality and the world of
writing, life falls together without broken bones or hearts.
You can find her at the following links:
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